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Neatly
and
methodically
,
Poirot
opened
each
drawer
in
turn
,
examined
the
contents
,
and
returned
them
exactly
to
their
places
.
It
was
a
singularly
dull
and
uninteresting
proceeding
.
Poirot
waded
on
through
collars
,
pajamas
and
socks
.
A
purring
noise
outside
drew
me
to
the
window
.
Instantly
I
became
galvanized
into
life
.
“
Poirot
!
”
I
cried
.
“
A
car
has
just
driven
up
.
Giraud
is
in
it
,
and
Jack
Renauld
,
and
two
gendarmes
.
”
“
Sacré
tonnerre
!
”
growled
Poirot
.
“
That
animal
of
a
Giraud
,
could
he
not
wait
?
I
shall
not
be
able
to
replace
the
things
in
this
last
drawer
with
the
proper
method
.
Let
us
be
quick
.
”
Unceremoniously
he
tumbled
out
the
things
on
the
floor
,
mostly
ties
and
handkerchiefs
.
Suddenly
with
a
cry
of
triumph
Poirot
pounced
on
something
,
a
small
square
cardboard
,
evidently
a
photograph
.
Thrusting
it
into
his
pocket
,
he
returned
the
things
pell
-
mell
to
the
drawer
,
and
seizing
me
by
the
arm
dragged
me
out
of
the
room
and
down
the
stairs
In
the
hall
stood
Giraud
,
contemplating
his
prisoner
.
“
Good
afternoon
,
M
.
Giraud
,
”
said
Poirot
.
“
What
have
we
here
?
”
Giraud
nodded
his
head
towards
Jack
.
“
He
was
trying
to
make
a
getaway
,
but
I
was
too
sharp
for
him
.
He
is
under
arrest
for
the
murder
of
his
father
,
M
.
Paul
Renauld
.
”
Poirot
wheeled
to
confront
the
boy
who
leaned
limply
against
the
door
,
his
face
ashy
pale
.
“
What
do
you
say
to
that
,
jeune
homme
?
”
